


Auron Black

by Mayamelissa



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, daemos and demons are 2 completely different species, tags and rating will be added, this game series owns my soul, yes I am freaking crazy about this game
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-21
Updated: 2016-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-02 16:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5255519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayamelissa/pseuds/Mayamelissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Veil. When it was raised, it closed off Thedas to so many places. Hell was just one of them. Let's be glad it wasn't one of His Majesty's generals who stumbled across the newly reopened doorway and it was in fact the petite young lead librarian who found it on her work break, yes?</p>
<p>And for the record: Deamos? Completely not a race you want to mess with. Someone might want to tell the bad guys.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. My Name is Auron Black

**Author's Note:**

> AO3 is starting to become my idea dump and I am not ashamed. Deamos is pronounced Day-m-ohs.

My name is Auron Black.

I am a daemos.

Normal people would call us demons. Those people are uneducated. You, gentle reader, shall not be.

Here's the simplest explanation: Demons are spirits of the Fade or lesser beings of power damned by God depending on which universe you come from and theory you subscribe to. They look to posses people of magical means or just people in general through deals or by force to experience mortality and a life they can't have. They also thrive on inflicting choas and pain in their wake. It's fun, they say.

Daemos come from Hell. However it isn't a place of fire and brimstone or eternal suffering. Although to be quite honest, we do have those spots reserved just like the biblical works say. We come from an old place. Older than you. Older than the concept of time. And we wait for our prey. Souls need time to grow and mature, like fruit or cattle.

Hardly ever do we need to coax someone into making bad decisions or throw some temptaion in the way. You all can do that yourselves. The running gag at home is how mortals act like they cannot be undone but the moment they get caught, "the devil made me do it." "Evil had hold of me!"

Oh evil had hold of you. Just not the kind you think it was.

Finally a soul will reach their prime amount of sins. I'm sure you can guess what happens then. They die and we get them. Call it eternity's Circle of Life.

Well, other daemos get them. I'm a unique breed and when I say breed, I am quite literally that. You have races, WE have breeds. As a whole, we can procreate in several manners but from what I understand my breed procreate like humans do. Our gestation time is around 5 human months or moon cycles and we can have up to 3 infants.

However the problem with my breed is: we're rare. We are practically immortal (with some exceptions) but we don't or rather can't mate with other daemos to produce our own offspring. If you've ever played Pokemon, it's like breeding with a ditto. And yes given where I am and what you're going to read about in this tale, me referencing what I just did is REALLY out of place. But that was the first thing that came to my mind and I'm under a lot of stress right now while I tell this tale.

_Breathe, Auron_.

What was I telling you about? Oh right. My breed is called Fate. I can tell every turn and twist of a person's life just by touching them. Their past, their present, their futures are all laid bare to me. Every secret. Every lie. Every hurt you've made to another. Every hurt done to you. I will know it all. Once I "read" you, I can influence everything you do. Good or bad. You become just a puppet for me to manipulate. I can lead you down some very dark paths and you wouldn't know it until you're passing through those gates into the underworld.

OR (and this is how I actually like to operate) I chronicle you. I make a book filled with your life's events and choices and everything that you can, were, would have been and will become is securely fashioned into a tome and I safely tuck it away into my library for all eternity. Personally I've already procurred over 2,000 tomes on various species of mortal life.

Not very impressive in terms of collections but that was before I came to Thedas. And given how I rarely left Hell's Palace before all this and I'm only the equivilant of 200 human years old, that's highly impressive. Not that anyone can understand. I'm the first Fate daemos born in a millennia and that was only because my parent found a proper mate. You have no idea how hard that is for a Fate daemos.

You see for us to procreate and produce other Fate daemos we need to mate with spirits.

Ghosts.

Souls of the dearly departed.

And they HAVE to be powerful. Powerful enough to forge a destiny of their own in spite of having no physical form or way to do it. Which means having free will. More often than not, they don't have those. So it makes our finding mates and breeding a new lot of Fate daemos difficult. And don't even suggest us breeding with a human or elf or whatever mortal species is around! We tried that and the only pay off anyone got were the introduction of cognitive special abilities to whatever race we mated with.

Like I said: we're the Ditto.

So I guess it's a good thing we're immortal. Or in my case, with what is happening right now: very bad. Very, VERY bad.

Because let me tell you: when I left the palace for a walk in the gardens, I did not expect to end up somewhere that had been sealed away from Hell's grip. Nor did I expect to become a savior.

I keep thinking this is a bad joke. Maybe I'm reading a particularly old tome and got lost in the life it chronicled? It's happened before. But I would have been summoned back by now if this were true.

And I would certainly not be dealing with this many mortals at the same time, singing to me and falling on bended knee. Staring at me. Like that one who thinks he can fool me into beleiving he is just an ordinary magic wielder. The "elven apostate" as he wants to claim to be.

What was his name again?

His true name which he hides?

Fen'Harel.


	2. Her Name was Cassandra Pentaghast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the new year and I got inspiration to write a new chapter for Auron! I'll do my best to keep this POV from her point of view but that writing style isn't particularly easy for me so please forgive me if this either takes time to update or I switch to 3rd.

_I am in so much trouble when I return_ , I thought after I had regained consciousness and looked at my surrounding. I was on my knees in a dank stone room, shackled and several soldiers of in armor of what would be Earth based medieval time period armor had swords pointed right at me.

And my hand was glowing green.

It was sputtering, flashing, and popping like an out of control firework explosive. But not in any way as pretty as those. It flared up and I cried out. Not in pain. No, this thing would cause pain if I weren't a daemos. At best it was vibrating, at worst it tickled.

I _hated_ being tickled.

A door burst open and I held her hands up to shield my eyes properly to the invasive brightness. 2 new ones entered. Female. 1 brunette and 1 red head. Both in their 30s. Both were not looking pleased to see me. I wonder what I’d done or rather what they thought I had done?

“Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you now,” the brunette demanded to know and when she leaned over her face just barely touching mine. Discomfort flooded me as every bit of this angry human woman's life was laid bare to my mind. She held a knife to my throat, threatening me for information. Was she going to be in shock at what she would see if she did try to murder me.

The second one stopped her before the action could be done. She was saying something about how I was needed.

Well that most certainly sounded ominous because I am quite sure they weren’t speaking of my organization skills.

The one called Cassandra removed the iron shackles from my wrists, replacing them with rope. If I’d been a lesser daemos I could have easily burned through them, attacked the guards, and ran.

But I wanted to see more so I could assess the situation better. I’d already let my youth get me into this mess. Now I needed to be smart. Escaping without a clue what to do next was not a smart thing.

I was led out of this place, the Chantry was its name I learned by shifting through Cassandra’s memories. I had to readjust my vision to cope with the natural light that was now illuminating my field of view and looked up at the sky.

“We call it the Breach,” Cassandra told me.

 _Yes, Cassandra, I am now very much aware of what you call it_ , I desperately wished to tell her. However that would not be wise. Magic is not looked upon kindly in this world. And I would certainly be dealing with enough of it and misconceptions about what or who I was for a while.

Oh how I hoped to return home soon.


End file.
